thirty one-Jordin
With Ciarán’s help, I got to the hospital in Tampa in two hours. The flight had been a blur—my mind stuck in a loop. I kept replaying my last meeting with Oak. Thinking about how I told him I didn’t like him.
What if that was the last time I saw him?
This didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real.
But it was real. The pain in my chest, the fear in my heart made it real.
The waiting room was tense. Divided.
Ciarán sat next to me, his arm draped along the back of my chair, his fingers tracing slow circles on my shoulder. Every now and then, he’d reach down and squeeze my hand like he was trying to keep me grounded.
On the other side of the room was Oak’s family—his mother, his father, his brother Marcus, a couple of cousins.
They kept their distance, but their eyes were on us the whole time.
Marcus had been glaring since the moment I walked in. His knee bouncing, fingers drumming against his thigh. He was pissed. I could feel the heat rolling off him.
Out of nowhere he shot up from his seat, like he couldn’t hold it in any longer. His feet slammed against the tiled floor as he head in my direction.
“You have a lot of nerve being here with him while my brother is fighting for his life,” he spat, voice sharp and cutting.
I inhaled, trying to keep my pulse steady. I was too tired for this.
“Your brother cheated on me,” I said flatly. “You have no right to talk to me about who I bring where.”
His expression twisted. “You’re a heartless bitch. I wish Oak had never met you.”
Before I could react, Ciarán was on his feet, stepping in front of me so fast I barely saw it happen.
His voice dropped—low, controlled—but he sounded like he was seething.
“Watch how you talk to her, motherfucker. I’ll put your head through the motherfucking wall,” he damn near growled. His chest was heaving. Nostrils flaring.
Oak’s father jumped up from his seat, his voice booming. “Get the hell away from my son.” He stepped forward like he was actually going to do something.
I stood and grabbed Ciarán’s arm, trying to pull him back before this turned into a full-blown scene.
“Ci, don’t—”
The doors to the waiting room swung open, and a woman rushed in.
“What is going on—for Christ’s sake?” she said, walking straight into the tension.
“Valentina, thank God you’re here,” Oak’s mother said, her voice full of relief as she stood and pulled her close. Oaks mother shove her towards me. “See? This is the type of girl Oak should have married,” his mother said, nodding towardthe woman beside her. “She wouldn’t have brought trash to the hospital.”
That was it.
I let out a tired laugh and shook my head. I was just so done.
“You know what? Fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I put up with you all when I was with Oak. I don’t have to anymore.”
I pointed at the woman. “Since you’re so perfect and his mom loves you, you can make the decisions about his life.”
I turned to Marcus and flipped him off. “I hope you break your fucking neck, you neadrathug.”
Then I grabbed a handful of Ciarán’s shirt and pulled him toward the exit. My chest felt tight. I couldn’t stand there and listen to another word.
